Poetry and Poo

The poetry scene in London has been rocked by two performance artists-cum-fucking nutcases.

The below e-mail is from top London poet Niall O Sullivan:

There is a circular going around about two unsavoury characters that are raiding the stage at open mic nights and then performing a disgusting piece of what some trust fund idiots call “performance art”. I would advise you to finish your lunch before reading the next part.

The basic routine is that they start shouting and rush the stage, the man starts reciting his “poetry” and the woman begins to strip. Now, most nights put a stop to it here, booting them out in the process, however one night allowed them to carry on. Next thing, the man was pulling faeces out from his underwear which the couple themselves with before throwing it at the audience. Nice.

The actually managed to get all the way through their act at London night A Spoonful of Poison. You can watch the video below, but we warned, it’s not very pleasant. My favourite quote from the video is from an audience member saying: “I’ve never seen Spoon pull an act, never mind how bad.” That’s hilarious. That’s the poetry scene, to get pulled from stage you have to shit yourself. That’s our glorious scene. Here’s the vid:

4 Comments

  • Tim Clare March 18, 2009 at 3:05 pm

    Beautiful. Just beautiful.

    Perhaps it was an honest mistake. I can imagine someone having watched other acts on London’s open mic circuit, getting up on stage and pelting the audience with shit, then sheepishly going: ‘Oh, sorry. I thought that was what we were doing.’

    Reply
  • Tina Louise March 18, 2009 at 5:36 pm

    Haiku response:

    penned thoughts on paper
    excreted emotions out
    words are poet poo

    Reply
  • Joe D March 19, 2009 at 1:39 am

    Holy stink. That’s amazing!

    They really get in to it. They don’t ever want to stop. Never.

    Reply
  • Niall March 19, 2009 at 11:37 pm

    Playing with poo onstage. It can only be achieved by that rare breed possessing a particular blend of stupidity, narcissism, a complete lack of talent and a Shoreditch backdrop. Afterwards the population can be divided into two categories, the people that have to clean it up and the wankers that debate whether it’s art.

    At least they didn’t do a Villanelle.

    Reply

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